


Less Of That Lip

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (medical stuff only in chapter 1), Gen, Medical, Painplay, Service, Sub!Hux, Verbal Humiliation, dom!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:49:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Reader is a doctor in the First Order medbay. Hux demands their attention.





	1. Chapter 1

This was not an injury worth your attention. The most minuscule of cuts and a tiny rivulet of blood; it certainly did not warrant a trip to the med bay. And yet here he sat, the commanding officer of this entire operation, insisting that he required treatment. 

"It could get infected," he hissed, as you started to protest about the number of routine checkups you were scheduled to perform that day. "Put something on it at once. The strongest stuff you have."

"Of course, general," you said, reaching for a bottle and some swabs. "This will sting a little, I'm afraid." He just glared at you, the effect somewhat muted by the absurd way he held his mouth open for you. You'd seen him in here often enough to know when he wanted something more than treatment, and if it was pain he wanted, well, who were you to deny it?

"There we go," you said, feeling him flinch under you as you applied the swab. "Now, I'll just need to hold it in place for a few minutes, so it can take effect." It needed no such thing, of course, but you were curious how long he could hold out with that burning sensation in his mouth. Along with your gloved fingers, of course.

"Now I have you here, general," you said, holding back your amusement at the tears already springing to his eyes, "I wonder if you could answer a few questions for me. Just simple, yes or no questions, given your current predicament. Can you do that?" He nodded once, hurriedly, looking up at you with what you might have interpreted as fear. He'd put himself into this situation by insisting the entire medbay be cleared. He'd put himself entirely into your hands. And your hands were not inclined to be merciful.

"Marvellous. Question one: do you really think that me standing here, like this, with you, with my entire staff pushed out of their workplace, is an efficient use of First Order resources?" He shook his head, inasmuch as he could, and you could see the irritation from the antiseptic beginning to form. His pretty mouth wouldn't be very pretty for much longer.

"Your honesty is appreciated, general. Question two: did you come here because you wanted my attention?" A nod, more vigourous this time. His mouth must feel like it was on fire by now. You almost admired his commitment. "And this is the only way your pathetic, emotionally stunted self could think of to get it, correct?" Another nod. He was starting to drool now, just a little, and you could feel him shivering. 

"One more question, and then you can be on your way," you said, and you could tell he was doing everything in his power not to cry aloud. "Are you a filthy little pervert?"

He stared at you, not moving, breathing so heavily that you worried he might pass out. "Come on, I know you want to tell me," you taunted, pressing down into his mouth a little harder. "Are you a filthy little pervert? Because, in my experience, that's exactly what you are. You come to me here whenever you want to be touched. You don't come to my quarters, or even ask me to meet you in some control room. You come here, so you don't have to admit that you want me to hurt you and degrade you. Admit it." Slowly, with tears falling, he nodded. 

He looked so used, when you took away your fingers and the swab. His lip was so swollen that you might as well have just punched him. If it weren't for the very obvious evidence of his ardour showing through his uniform trousers, you might almost have felt bad. 

"Say it for me," you whispered, leaning close to him, your hands gripping his upper arms, and, thickly, he replied,

"I'm a filthy little pervert."

"Good boy," you breathed in his ear, and then, almost imperceptibly, you kissed his forehead. You turned for a second, then came back with a small tub of cream. "This should get rid of the swelling," you winked, "or one of them, anyway." You could have sworn you saw him blush. "Come back in a week. I think you'll need a checkup."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've heard of getting naked and then fucking, now get ready for...

The water was warm today, so that was something. They weren't having to use every spare unit of power to keep the ship going. They may know how to look well-run and ruthlessly efficient, but you knew that what went on just below the surface was only a few steps away from chaos at any given time. 

You'd only been in the shower a few moments before the comm on the wall began to bleep. Someone was trying to gain entry to your quarters. With an irritated sigh, you turned off the water, and pressed the button to speak.

"Who is it?" you said, as politely as you could muster. You ran to a carefully calibrated schedule; any interruptions threw off your entire day, and you certainly didn't have any free time to play with. Whoever this was, it had better be important.

"It's General Hux," said that familiar voice, and - without meaning to - you smiled. You had made that crack about him coming to your quarters, after all. "Let me in at once. I can't stand out here looking like a fool all morning." So polite of him to ask, you thought. He could have let himself in, if he really wanted to. Without a word, you pushed the button to unlock the door, and turned the water back on.

You could imagine exactly what he was doing out there in your sleeping quarters. He'd have stepped through the door, looked momentarily confused by your absence, and then heard the water. He'd have hesitated, wondering if he should - should he? - did you want him to-? - should he just wait-?. He'd have sat down on your bed, then immediately sprang back up, disgusted with himself and the impropriety of the entire situation. He'd have turned to leave, but then his thoughts would have turned to you, in the shower, the water running down your body and dripping off your-

Right on cue, there were three sharp knocks at the door. You let him wait a few seconds, just long enough to make him wonder if you really did want him to wait for you outside, and then you called out, "come in".

Bless him, he did try so hard to look at anything but you. He started into some transparent pretence of a spiel, about upcoming missions and itineraries and so forth, all requiring urgent discussion, of course, while carefully examining a single tile on the wall. You let him talk while you finished washing, and when you once again turned off the water his final few words reverberated loudly in the tiny room. He fell silent, and continued to stare at the wall as you stepped out of the shower.

The general couldn't help but look at you now. You stood barely a foot from him, naked as the day you were born, with the gleam of the water still all over you. You let him get one good look, let his eyes wander all over you. Give him something to think about later. "Is that really the reason you came all the way here, general? To update me on strategy?" You inched still closer to him. "Because I think you have something else in mind."

You could hear his breathing, quick and shallow, and you could almost feel the effort it took him to keep his hands clenched tightly behind his back. "No," he whispered, his eyes still roving, trying to commit every inch of you to memory. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"No," he said, louder this time, and hurriedly. "I came here because-"

"Because what? Don't be shy, you can say."

"Because I think you're very attractive," he replied, in his usual, amusingly aloof way. 

"And?"

"Well, I think that's-"

"Do you want to fuck me, general?" You could probably have made that sound less mocking, but why would you?

You could barely suppress your laughter as he sputtered for a moment, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't sound ridiculous. Thankfully, he soon gave up trying, and, finally looking you straight in the eye, came out with a simple, "Yes."

"That's sweet," you said, cradling his face gently in your hand. "Really, I'm flattered." You gave his cheek the slightest of slaps - a tap, really - and he flinched away. "And is that what you thought would happen if you came here this morning?"

"I- I don't know what I thought," he said. You made a slight gesture, and without even seeming to think about it he handed your towel to you. He'd be so easy to train, you thought. You must carve out some time for it. "I don't know what I expected. I just wanted to be here."

"That's a lie," you said, wrapping yourself up in your towel and pushing past him out into your sleeping quarters. "Don't think I don't know when you're lying. Tell me the truth. Why are you here?"

"Because I want-" he came scurrying after you, and stopped abruptly, almost walking into you. "Because I need to be treated like dirt. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Don't you get enough of that?" You were openly mocking him now. The resentment flashed across his face, but melted away as soon as it came.

"It's not the same thing, and you know that. Please, don't make me beg. I know you enjoy our encounters as much as I do. I wouldn't come to you if you didn't." He paused, and the look on his face was as pleading as any words he could have cared to use. He didn't even look away when you dropped the towel and slid into your underwear. 

"'Don't make me beg.' Kind of a contradiction, don't you think?" You put on your breeches, but left them loose and unbuttoned. "I'll make you say and do whatever I feel like." You placed one hand gently but firmly on top of his head, and pushed him slowly to his knees. You felt no resistance. God, he was so uncomplicated, when you got to the core of him. "Do you like being down there, so close to what you can't have?"

"I do," he said, breathing deeply and slowly now. You could tell he was savouring the smell of you. "I know I don't deserve you. I know that you honour me by letting me this close to you. I would spend all day, every day here, worshipping you, if I could." He had both hands planted firmly on the floor. That wouldn't do.

"Then make yourself useful," you said. "Prove yourself capable of the most menial of tasks." He looked up expectantly, and you laughed at him once again. "No, not that, filthy boy." He looked away, chastened. "Dress me."

He set to the task like it was all he'd ever dreamed of. He gathered the remainder of your uniform together, your shirt, your tunic and your belt, and placed them carefully on your bed as you watched, fascinated by his utter obedience. He picked up your shirt first, not making even the slightest of his disapproving expressions at its wrinkled state, and placed it around your shoulders. You slipped your arms into it, not breaking your gaze. For his part, he seemed to have decided that he wasn't worthy of your eye contact any more. You grabbed him by the chin, jerking his head and forcing him to meet your eyes. 

"That's better," you said. You loved to look at him when he was in this state. All his usual pomposity, his ego, his grandeur, all gone, and replaced by something so much more basic. "Does it make you happy, to be reduced to a serving boy?"

"Yes, captain," he said, starting to work on the buttons of your shirt. He fumbled a little, probably from the nerves, or maybe he just wasn't used to doing them up from the opposite direction. "I only want to serve you." When he reached the lower buttons he dropped to his knees again, without you even having to push him. He carefully tucked your shirt into your breeches, much more neatly than you ever did, and started to fasten them in turn. You felt his fingers run reverentially over the fabric. 

"Your rank means nothing to me, either in here or anywhere else on the ship," you said. He was leaning back on his heels now, awaiting your permission to rise and continue with his task. "How could it, when I've seen you crawling around the floor like this for me? But don't worry," you laughed, and stroked his hair back. "You may not be the big, bad general, but you'll always be my little pet. Isn't that better?"

"Yes, captain," he blurted out. "I'd rather spend an hour at your feet than a lifetime ruling the galaxy." He widened his eyes, realising too late what he'd just said.

"Ruling the galaxy?" you taunted, while he cringed and looked at the floor. "Now, there's an insight into how your mind works. You aren't fit to lick the dirt from my boots, boy, never mind any ruling of the galaxy." Now there's an idea, you thought, and made a mental note for later. "Don't worry, though, I won't tell anyone about your little delusions. Just get me dressed." He scrambled to his feet and grabbed your tunic from the bed. Lovingly, he laid it around your shoulders, and you slipped your arms into it in turn. He fastened the buttons one by one, and you let your fingers play across his lips. To your surprise, a real, unembittered smile flickered there.

"Look how pretty you really are," you said, and the smile grew slightly. "My beautiful boy, you're doing such a good job. Belt?" He ran this time, snatched it up, and brought it back to wrap around your waist. He was standing so close you could feel the heat radiating from him. He fastened it with a click, and stepped away from you like he'd finished performing a rite of worship.

"Very nice," you said approvingly, turning to look at yourself in the full-length mirror. You could see over your shoulder that he'd dropped back to his knees. "What do you have to say?"

"Thank you, captain," he breathed, as you sat down on the bed to pull on your socks. Enjoyable as this may be, you really were running late now. He crawled forward to reach for your boots, and whimpered slightly when you snatched them away and began to pull them on yourself. 

"Like I said, not fit to lick my boots," you said, and he nodded, looking towards the ground. "But I'll give you a chance to prove me wrong. Come to me when my shift is over, and we'll put your skills to the test."

"Yes, captain. Thank you, captain," he said, louder this time, and your were already halfway out of the door.

"Stay here for a few minutes and cool down," you said, checking the time and sighing. "You should probably take a shower, too. Not that there'll be any hot water by now, but I think you'll be better off with cold anyway, don't you?"

"Yes, captain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boot stuff in chapter 3, I think :3


End file.
